Of All Things
by TheLampPostStation
Summary: There were three more survivors of the 815 crash. Two more candidates. People aren't what they appear to be. This is Draco, Scorpius, and Hermione's fight to survive. Based on a challenge by timeturneruser.  Chapter 1.15 is up!
1. Pilot part 1

**A/N: Three quick things: 1, I don't own these awesome fandoms, two, there is a skewed time line regarding the Harry Potter characters. Their first year is in 1985, and the final battle was in 1993. And three, just a thought, this chapter is "Pilot part 1 (1:1)" and I started it on 1/1/11.**

**Of All Things: Pilot, Part 1 (1:1)**

I stretched in the mildly comfortable seat. I glanced at my reflection in the plastic on the window. My focus shifted to the clouds flowing beneath us set against a color only describable as 'sky blue'. My son, settled in the seat between the window and me, flicked a few strands of dark blonde hair from in front of his silver-blue eyes. He turned the page of the magazine he was poured over. _SkyMall_ the cover read.

"Scorpius, don't waste your time reading about the stupid inventions _muggles_," I mouthed the word, "Have to replace _magic._" I pulled the "literature" from his fingertips.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" A stewardess stopped in the aisle alongside us.

"Water," Scorp muttered, remembering the courteous reply when asked what to drink by a muggle. 'Pumpkin juice' isn't an acceptable answer in the muggle world.

"Something strong," I whispered, turning away so my son couldn't hear. She smirked. "Something funny?"

"I just had a passenger ask for something a bit stronger than what he had. 'Used the same phrase."

"Tell him, er, great minds think alike!" I faked a smile. The stewardess smiled in return.

"Coming right up." She walked away, swaying her hips.

"Aren't you still married to mum?"

"Not anymore, Scorp." A man rushed down the aisle. He glanced back, sweat soaking the collar of his shirt. He slammed into the lavatory door. The woman who waited on us followed in quick pursuit.

Scorpius had picked up a card depicting stick figures demonstrating various safety equipment. Before I could stop him from reading that too, the plane jarred to the side suddenly.

"Dad!"

"You're fine. My husband has always told me that the planes _want_ to be up in the air." A woman across the aisle, and one seat back addressed my son's outburst.

"Thank you," I twisted around to face her. "He said thank you." She nodded, gripping the arm rest as another wave of turbulence crashed into the aircraft.

"Dad, I don't- I don't like this."

"The pilot has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. Please remain seated."

"Son, this is why we apparate. Sadly, you aren't thirteen, the legal side-along apparition age, so this will have to do." The airline shook violently, lasting much longer than the previous quakes. A man was thrown from his seat and was crushed against the roof. Spare pieces of luggage slid down the aisle. I felt the pull of gravity as we plummeted downward. Masks descended from a compartment in the ceiling. I pushed them out of the way, reaching for my wand. Securing the familiar piece of hawthorn in my hand I mumbled a few words that should make this nightmare waiting to happen stop. Only it didn't.

I heard a muffled "Dad!" as a piece of elastic was tossed around my head, making it easier to breathe. Scorp's hand twisted around mine as a flash of light surrounded the cabin.

* * *

"Someone, anyone, please! Help!" My voice was growing hoarse. The scene was chaos. Half of the aircraft was thrown to pieces; one of the _turbines_ was whirring, as if still attached. People everywhere were bloodied, dead, or dismembered. My father laid in the sand, unconscious. I was scared. "Anyone!"

A man was sucked into the turbine. A cacophony of screams matched the intensity of the resulting explosion. I noticed a man talk to another. He pointed to a pregnant woman a ways a way.

"Sir! HELP!" The man ran over, his tie tossed over one shoulder. He fell to his knees beside Dad.

"Are you his son?" I nodded. "He's breathing, and I have a pulse, when he wakes up, give him…" The man rifled through his pocket. He brought up several orange bottles, selected one, and dumped out a pill. "This. With some water."

"Sir, what's your name? So I can let him know?"

"Jack. You?" He squinted into the sunlight.

"I'm Scorpius." My dad started to stir.

"Here," Jack handed me a bottle of water. He stood up, jogging over to another injured passenger.

"S…"

"Don't talk dad, sit up." He slid up from his back, brushing sand weakly from his dress shirt.

"Where are we?"

"Dad, take this, the ma- Jack. I think he's a healer or something. He told me to give it to you."

"This, Jack. Can I trust him?" I nodded, and he swallowed the pill without water.

"Drink. I'll go find our trun-"

"Stay." And there we sat, staring out into the sea for the next several hours.

* * *

"Dude, are you guys hungry?" A rotund man with curly black hair walked up to us, carrying a tray. When he got closer, I could see the _Oceanic_ logo stamped into the plastic. "Here. You guys make thirty-two. 32 survivors so far."

"Joy," I said sarcastically, handing the tray to Scorpius.

"Thank you sir."

"Polite kid. 'Name's Hurley." He stuck out his hand. I accepted.

"Malfoy. Draco."

"Scorpius," my son offered his hand.

"Like I said, polite kid." Hurley accepted the handshake. "See ya later." When he was out of earshot, I scoffed.

"_Muggles_."

**A/N: I will update as often as possible, and, fingers crossed, will not abandon this one!**


	2. Pilot part 2

**Of All Things: Pilot Part 2 (1:2)**

I pulled the latch on the lavatory door, and stepped into the aisle. I wasn't but two rows closer to my seat when a man ran past, shoved me into the lap of a rather large person, and slammed the restroom door after himself. I apologized, and rushed towards my seat. The airplane hit a pocket of turbulence. I staggered into the nearest available seat, fastened my seatbelt tightly and huddled against the window, my fingers straining against the armrest.

"First flight?" I had seated myself next to a man. He had brown hair, longer than what I was used to. His accent was something American, southern, if I remember correct.

"I really don't like flying. Forgive my manners, I'm Hermione."

"Sawyer. So, Hermione, why is it that you don' like flying? I can't see anything too wrong with it." The seats rattled with another burst of shaking torment.

"That," I gulped, "Is _exactly_ why I don't like flying."

"It'll pass," he fastened his own belt as the light declaring he do so came on.

"The pilot has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. Please remain seated."

"Thanks," I felt for my wand protectively in my pocket, "Sawy-" Oxygen Masks popped from a compartment above. I blinked, my eyes following the swaying of the mask before me.

"What are you waiting for?" A muffled voice asked.

"Huhn?" Sawyer's arms reached in front of me, pulling the mask around my face.

"Hello… Hello… You… Okay?" I pulled my eyelids open. The struggling English came attached to a Korean man. "Bu-in, gwaenchanh-eu dangsindo?" I understood that!

"I'm fine. Jeon gwaenchanh-ayo!" The man smiled.

"Dangsin-eun ihae! jeon jin-ibnida!" _You understand! I am Jin._

"Naega Hermione. Naui hangug-eo, mian haeyo jaldoeji anhseubnida." _I am Hermione. My Korean isn't very good, sorry._

"Geugeoneun musahabnida. Dangsin-i geol-eul su issgess-eo? Doum-eul chaj-eusil su issseubnida." _That is alright. Can you walk? I'll find help_. I nodded and pulled myself to my feet.

It seemed as if the airplane had exploded on impact. The fuselage was torn to shreds, the cockpit missing, wings snapped in half. People, if they weren't unconscious or dead, screamed or ran. It was going to be a long night.

I found shelter, off to one side, next to a pregnant woman. She looked over to a thin girl sunning herself.

"Your boyfriend?"

"My brother. God's freaking gift to humanity." They talked a while later. I learned the pregnant woman was Claire, flying from Australia, like everyone here, and that she didn't know what she was having, a boy or girl. We waited around, chatting about this or that, until shouting broke out a ways down the beach.

An Iraqi and Sawyer were fighting, shouting about who crashed the plane. A black man and the doctor broke it up. I lost interest. I just needed to find my wand.

"Boone, is it?" The young man turned around and nodded. Set against the army of waves he could've been a model for a clothing line. "Have you found a trunk, leather bound?" He shook his head.

"I'll keep a look out. You should see Jack about that cut," he pointed in my direction. I knew he meant the bloodstain on my stomach. I walked away, inching my button up shirt out of my skirt's waistband. Blood stuck to it, an oozy red tar. The jagged line crossed my navel, a canyon snaking through my cells. It had happened a while ago in the crash, long enough for it to partially heal, and the pain to dissipate.

The doctor, Jack, was talking to a black man, who I knew to be named Michael.

"Excuse me?" Jack turned around, I kept my shirt pulled up, just above the laceration. I laid down in the sand per his instructions. He picked up a backpack he was carrying, selected a mini bottle of vodka, and dumped the contents onto my midriff. I whimpered.

"This would hurt more later if I didn't," he explained as he opened up a travel sewing kit. "Red, white, black, or blue?" He laughed at a joke I didn't understand.

"Red's fine," I said, might as well keep my Gryffindor pride. "I'm Hermione by the way."

"Hello Hermione, I'm Jack!" On his name, he stuck the needle through my skin. "That's good, breathe, breathe…" A few moments later, he was tying a knot in the red thread.

Two days down, Merlin knows how many left to go.

AS A REMINDER: This story will contain spoilers, as it follows the Television show LOST, episode for episode. I have seen the end, as I have every episode in between. I will keep as canon as possible. It is highly recommended that you either A, have already finished lost, or B, watch along episode for episode online or through the DVD sets, just as I am doing with this as I write. I cannot write every line a character says, moreso the events that occur. I'm trying my hardest, this is a daunting task, adding in three new characters and at least four other plot twists- but that's spoilers.

Also, the Language that Jin and Hermione are speaking is Phonetic Korean. Ffnet doesn't like it when you post Korean characters under the English language. That is what it sounds like when they talk.

Up next, Tabula Rasa (1:3)


	3. Tabula Rasa

**Of All Things: Tabula Rasa (1.3)**

The Iraqi, Sayid, came back, talking about the ekeltronics or something like that. I wasn't really paying attention. I was watching Scorp play a board game with the only other child on the airplane, a boy called Walt. I really don't like it when he sits there with the muggles. I raised him right, elves to do our work, and games that the children play with each other like 'Mr. Hippogryff' and 'Owls and Bowtruckles' . Not cooking over twig-fed fires eating mangos and the Korean man's urchins. Or playing backgammon with old men.

I found my trunk, lifting the edge over my shoulder and limping towards the makeshift shelter I made. Last night, when everyone was huddled round their fires, I found my wand and was able to light a fire. It took a couple tries, but I suspect it's the crash that's addled my powers.

"Dad, how long are we goin'ta be here," Scorp whimpered as we stepped off the plane from the flight to Melbourne.

"A few days, son. As soon as I'm finished here with your Great Uncle Ophiuchus."

"I don't like Uncle O. He smells weird." Scorpius clung to my hand. This ten-year old was terrified of the muggles. We took a cab to the hotel where Ophiuchus wanted to meet us at.

"Why isn't Mum here? Doesn't she gotta talk to Uncle O?"

"Doesn't she have to talk to Uncle Ophiuchus," I corrected, "And no, I don't know what those muggle cinema things tell you, but in our world, I am more than capable for signing for your Mum." The cab stopped in front of The Larriatte Inn; nothing under perfect for Opi Malfoy.

The man meeting us in front was old, a pointed grey-black beard followed his chin down to a thin curl at the end. He wore glasses and had thinning white hair. He was wearing a black pinstripe suit with a grey traveling cloak over top.

"Draco! and Little Scorpius! Thought I'd be seeing you two sometime today! Come on! The papers are in my room." Several hours later, Opi and I were half drunk, talking about the other assets in Austrailia, and my aunt's failing health in America.

"Dad! Dad! Walt's got his dog back! He's got a dog!" I grinned at my son's first genuine flash of happiness since the crash. People were all smiling, tossing around fruit, or staring at the ocean. One girl was walking around with firewood.

This trip shouldn't be too bad.

Notes: This one wasn't too long, sorry. Guess there wasn't too many chances to write in a character or two.

And that middle portion was a flashback, in case you didn't notice. Uncle Opiuchus is, in my mind, Lucius' brother (It's never mentioned if there is one). He's a little… soft in his old age, and is eager to write pureblood families into his will before he joins Voldemort.


	4. Walkabout

**Of All Things: Walkabout (1.4)**

Vincent is barking.

Rarf! Rarf! Rarf!

Someone's going through the fuselage.

A crowd is gathering.

Sawyer's angered it.

It's a boar.

A big, hairy, loud boar.

I don't like boars.

I spent the entire ordeal screaming, huddled in a ball in Claire's and my tent.

"I think it's gone, Hermione," She said. I nodded.

"Help me up. I'm going to get a drink." I was walking towards the main firepit on camp when a group of people's conversation reached my ears.

"If he's so eager to burn the bodies then why is he waiting until sundown?"

"He's hoping someone will see it." I didn't want to know what was going on.

Or did I?

I shook it from my head.

"Are you sure? Maybe it's under Monica, instead of Wendell." The receptionist rolled her eyes, typing out a few letters. When I sent my parents off to Australia several years ago, I sent them to the Larriatte Inn, a place that cost a lot of money, and houses many wizards, and a few muggles.

"They checked out last week, lady. Paid in full by… cash. In Muggle money."

"Thanks, Hale. I'll try to catch up to them. Do you know where they went?"

"Enh, said somethin 'bout LA." Xaviera Hale, American, runs the Larriatte, which was settled by her great great grandfather. We kept in touch over the years

"Gimme a room for tonight." I dropped a bag of sickles on the counter.

"Hermione! There you are!" Claire walked over to me, her right arm around her grown stomach, the other at her hip. "We're doing a memorial for the, the people who aren't alive. Right now we need another hand with sorting out the belongings." I joined her at the stack of papers and boxes.

"Is there a Sayid over here?" I handed the envelope to my pregnant friend. She turned to the man next to her. I picked up another backpack, turning it until the tag faced me. What I read sunk my stomach to my feet. In pointed handwriting, on a card tucked into the plastic case, was Scorpius Malfoy. I looked around. The familiar flash of blond hair didn't catch my eye anywhere near me. I cautiously unzipped the bag. Two magic books, and one muggle one. A journal stuffed at the bottom. I opened it. It was full of writing, written in the style of a work of fiction, with blocks of dialogue everything. On the inside cover, Scorpius had inked in his name. I closed it and replaced it in the bag.

When dark had fallen like a blanket punctuated by small fires, Claire, Hurley, and Charlie gathered me to help with the memorial service. None of the Malfoys were mentioned.

I think that's what scared me the most.

They're still alive, and standing in our camp.

NOTES: I think that the chaps will stay relatively short. I'm not writing in directly the other character's flashbacks (that's borderline, nay, is plagiarism.) just sprinkling in my own. I'm only giving myself the 43 minutes to write each chapter.

Enjoy!


	5. White Rabbit

**Of All Things: White Rabbit (1.5)**

"What's going on?" Charlie turned to face me.

"Jacks swam out to save someone!" I turned back to the water. Jack was ambling up the beach, his arm around another man. Kate and Charlie ran to help him; all I could do was watch. Jack ran back out into the aqueous inferno. Charlie helped dry Boone out, then joined me staring out to the coast. "Draco, is it? Can you cover for me? I need to, er, help Hurley with something. I told Kate I'd help her sort out some of the suitcases." I nodded, picked up my rucksack, and set off in the direction of his finger.

Kate and a few of the other women were sorting clothes. I honestly don't know how Charlie got roped into this.

"Hello," I said as I stepped closer. "I'm Draco, and, uh, Charlie sent me to help you lot." Kate looked up.

"We were just sorting clothes by practicality. Useful ones over there, not useful over there," she said, gesturing to each pile. I picked a black suitcase and sat across from the women.

"I'm Claire, Draco." An attractive blonde woman, noticeably pregnant, nodded at me from behind a pair of pants. Seeing our exchange, the other woman looked up to introduce herself. With those eyes, and that hair, she didn't need introducing.

"I'll have another firewhiskey," I muttered to the bartender from the Larriatte's bar. Opi had passed out an hour ago. I left Scorp in our room and headed down to the bar for some thinking. It was nearly deserted, The bartender and myself the only ones left.

"Lemme guess, you love someone other than your wife," He said, sliding a glass in front of me. I downed the shot before replying.

"Try again, Phil."

"Wife left ya?" His American accent picked at my migrane.

"Something like that. I still got the kid."

"Sucks. How about another round?"

"Claire, Claire! Are you alright? Kate, we were just going for a walk, to pick up some more suitcases, and she- she just collapsed!" Charlie and Kate ushered Claire into a tent. There was a slight lull in the action, when Charlie said the worst thing anyone could have said at that moment. Someone had stolen the water.

We were going to have to mention it sooner or later. She was moping a wet cloth over Claire's brow, keeping her cool to save the baby. Charlie hovered nearby, a plate of boar and fish in his taped-up hands. I paced outside, waiting for her to show herself. She didn't; so I went inside the tent.

"Draco, uh, hello there," Charlie found the situation awkward somehow. I didn't understand.

"It's alright Charlie. I'm here to see Granger." She didn't turn around when I said her name. "Granger, can I see you outside?" She nodded, not facing me. I left the tent, and stood ankle deep in loose sand. The flap on the tent flipped around, and I knew it was her.

She was wearing a stained pink sweater, and jeans ripped at the knees. Her untaimed mess of hair was pulled back.

"Listen, Malfoy. I don't know what you were doing on 815, but that doesn't make anything different about you, about me."

"What's that supposed to mean, Granger? If you still want to play with the filthy muggles, then by all means do so. I wasn't about to stop you. I just wanted to pay a childhood aquantance a hello." Smirking, I picked up my bag, and re-entered the tent. Granger joined us after a fashion, sitting on the far side of the tent, not speaking directly to me. Charlie and Claire kept us entertained, Charlie by humming tunes from his band and Claire by telling stories to the baby.

Jack's back.

The water's back.

Scorp and I were laying under our tarp. I was spinning my wand around, emitting drops of water. The water never really left for us. I tried sending my patronus, but couldn't concentrate long enough for the peacock to come forth.

NOTES: In this episode, Locke said an interesting quote that I would like everyone to take note of, as I couldn't fit it into the chapter. He is talking with jack, and mentions that he doesn't believe in any *he pauses* Magic. Please remember he said this quote.

Draco's patronus is a peacock, the kind he kept as pets as a child.

Up next: House of the Rising Sun

Special thanks to: AlinaLotus who keeps the story rolling with their reviews.


	6. House of the Rising Sun

**Of All Things: House of the Rising Sun (1.6)**

I need to get the heck off of this place. Nothing good has happened since we arrived. Arrived isn't the right word. Taken against our will is more like it. Malfoy joined them on the water scouting trip. I stayed behind. No need for me to follow the ferret.

"Ferret? You beat me to it." Did I say that out loud?

"To what?" I asked as I cleaned off several of Locke's knifes for him.

"Nicknaming the unsocial little freak," Sawyer said, picking one knife up from the pile and slipping it into the sheath on his belt.

"Long story. We attended school together… and he had a run-in with one of the teachers… and a ferret was involved."

"Did you two…" He trailed off, flicking his eyes to the jungle and back to mine.

"No!" I said, irritated. "We were -enemies- in fact."

"Alright, sugar." He smirked like Malfoy does, and turned to the ocean. A fight had broken out at the coastline. He grabbed Sayid and ran.

There was a spray of water as they fought, wrenching Michael and the Korean man apart. Sayid struggled him over to a part of the aircraft, and used a pair of handcuffs we found to attached him.

The water scouting trip is back. Jack's wandering, asking about these caves he found. I'm not sure if I should follow. Fresh water versus rescue. I've tried wandless apparition, and any other magic. It's seemed as though the island wouldn't allow it. Until I noticed Malfoy and son had unlimited water supply. He must still have his wand.

"I dunno, Gin, what if it's been too long or something?"

"I haven't met anyone who can cast a memory charm long enough to last twelve years, and you did it. I know you can get rid of it." Ginny sat on my bed, as I paced, filling my suitcase with clothing for a few nights, my potions kit, in case a senses potion was needed, and my annotated copy of _Hogwarts, a history._

"I- Ron's off with L-; and Har-. Gin, you're all I got left. If I can't let them come to. I don't know what I'd do."

"You got this, Hermione."

"Ferret." He looked up from the book he was reading. It was one of the ones I saw in Scorpius's bag.

"Mudblood," he said, ignoring swearing in front of his son, and not looking from his page. Whatever potion he used on his hair was wearing off. It was now closer to a yellow-blond than platinum. It hung down around his eyes. He had torn the sleeves of a light green button-up shirt off at the elbow, and unbuttoned the top few buttons. His muggle jeans were a size to large and were held up with a piece of wire cable. It was hilarious to see pure-blood Malfoy wearing muggle clothes.

"Listen, Malfoy, I know you have your wand, and I know you can still do magic. Nothing wandless is working, and I need to heal this cut I have, the stitches are driving me mad."

"Is Granger asking for a favor?"

"Just let me see it for a moment. I'll give it back," I added behind clenched teeth. He smirked, pulling the length of hawthorn from his pocket. I turned around, and pulled up my shirt. I pointed the wand and muttered a healing spell.

Nothing happened.

I tried again.

Nothing.

"Malfoy, I don't know what you did, but this isn't working." A genuine frown creased his 'flawless' face.

"I didn't _do_ anything. Let me see it." I handed him the hawthorn and turned to face him, my shirt still hiked up. "Vulnera Sanentur." The red thread fell from the wound, which lightly worked itself back together. It wasn't a complete, nor strong, heal, but it was something.

"Thank you, Malfoy. I can't tell you how much those stitches hur-" I caught myself.

"You're welcome," he smirked. He and Sawyer would get along just fine.

"I guess it didn't work because it isn't my wand," I muttered, taking a shirt from my bag and ripping off one of the sleeves and knotting it around the newly healed wound.

"Healing spells are usually great for me," Malfoy commented, uncharacteristically participating in my one-sided conversation. "I wonder why it didn't work so well." I shrugged, and slung my bag over my shoulder.

"Thanks," I said again, walking away.

"And Granger?"

"What?"

"Nice abs." I rolled my eyes and huffed off.


	7. The Moth

**Of All Things: The Moth (1.7)**

"Why are we moving?"

"There's fresh water at the caves."

"I thought you could make us water."

"Ever since last night, Scorp, water isn't coming quickly. Besides, _they_ can't see us… you know. Come on, we're here." Scorpius and I arrived at the caves in time to hear hollering then a crash.

"CHARLIE! Where's Jack?" The rock-star numbly raised a hand towards the cave. Hurley hollered at him, willing him to leave. On his way past, he grabbed my arm.

"Help me, mate."

"Scorp, stay here, stay out of the way."

When we made it to the beach, we broke into a run to the nearest adults we could see. Michael and Boone. They gathered people, and headed back to the jungle.

"Hey, Charlie, what about Kat?"

"Kate. Kate!" He stopped Sawyer who said he'd go find her.

"Sawyer, I'll come with you. Two's better than one, yes?"

"I'm Pregnant."

"What?"

"It's a boy.

"What?" My life was turning mental. A year into our relationship, and _this_ happens… What will mum and dad think? What will her parents think? What do I think?

"I'm here to help," I jogged up.

"Stay back Hermione. Michaels checking it for stability."

"Whoever isn't digging should clear the rock and bring water…"

"What are you doing here?" Kate asked sharply, leaving Sayid to stare at me.

"I have something I need to tell you," Sawyer said. He had one of those voices that gets under your skin and makes you not hate him.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say." Sawyer's face changed. Something in his eyes reflected hurt, but when he spoke it was perfectly measured and almost arrogant.

"I just wanted to tell you; you were right about me… I don't take care of anyone but myself." I was beginning to like this guy. "Well, here I am, ready to pitch in…" They continued walking, ignoring Jack's danger.

"Steve, here's some wat-"

"I'm Scott."

"Hey we got a hole! We're through!" Jacks voice, however muffled, made it through.

` Sayid sent Sawyer into the tree.

"Draco, with me," he said, walking off.

Charlie volunteered to go in. I would have, but something in his speech about who people have-

"She's got a husband; He's got a sister; She's got a boyfriend…" He pointed to me. What? I wasn't about to correct him, because everyone else was moved by his words and I couldn't bring myself to kill the mood.

She just punched me. Swung her thirteen year old arm and socked me in the face. I, frightened out of my wits, ran, straight back to the Slytherin common room. Astoria was in there, reading. I kissed her, trying to drown my frustrations of the girl that had beat me. But something inside me couldn't help wishing she was in here instead of Astoria. But that was seventeen years ago.

"Where is he? Where is Jack?"

"He's in there, Kate," I said.

"Why is nobody digging?" And the process started again.

"Astoria, this is something big, I dunno if we- we're ready."

"Draco," She took my hand, her dark hair flowing onto her shoulders. "I want this." I stepped back, nodding.

"Alright. If you want this, we'll make it happen."

"Draco," she smiled, and turned away.

"Marry me."

"Hey, Ferret, light that flare." I looked up. Sawyer was in the trees, fiddling with the electronic thing. I nodded, my fingers fubling with the lighter-upper thing. It shot into the air.

"Now what?" We waited. We were the last flare. It was a while.

"The lights on this thing went off, we should head back." I nodded, picking up my pack, and beginning the long trek to the beach.


	8. Confidence Man

**Of All Things: Confidence Man (1.8)**

I was out in the water, waist deep. I left my pants and shirt at the beach, choosing to wade out in only a borrowed bikini. The salt stung at the corners of my cut, but I'll survive. I rinsed my hair, managing it into wet tresses at my shoulder. I noticed the rest of the camp beginning to stir, and rushed back to my clothes. I don't need any perverts sneaking glances.

I had had Claire watch my stuff, keeping Sawyer's sticky fingers at bay.

"What are you writing?" I asked, wringing my hair out into the damp sand as I made my way further up the coast. Before she could answer, Charlie joined us, looking far better than he did yesterday.

"Morning delivery!" He tossed a bottle of water to Claire, then to me. "Well, I figured in your condition, with the extra baggage…" I turned my back, and pretended to be interested in repacking my rucksack. Their conversation was getting a little personal. Charlie was having a tough time convincing Claire to join him at the caves.

[-x-]

I hate funerals. Flitwick wanted to start a memorial service for those lost in the war. I was holding Ron's hand, my black glove fitting into his calloused palm. The remaining teachers took turns muttering the names of the fallen.

"Zacharias, Melanie," Professor Sinistra read off the last name, then spoke up a little bit louder. "And, though he was largely hated, one must not forget Tom Riddle; know to our world as Lord Voldemort. Thank you all for attending, you may pay your respects in the Great Hall." I wiped tears from my eyes, and turned to Ron. He crushed my in a hug.

"Should we go see Harry?" he whispered in my ear. I nodded. He led me, arm around my shoulders, into the Great Hall.

[-x-]

Charlie and Malfoy emerged from the jungle, making a beeline for Claire and me. They started conducting a very good three person conversation about what they want right now more than anything. We were nearing the fuselage remains when Charlie brought me into the dialogue.

"What about you, 'Mione?" I thought about it. All the answers already were good ones: towels, pizza, a bed.

"A good book that I've never read."

"That'll be the day; the world will end when we find a book that Granger's never read." I shook it off. Charlie continued the list.

"Bonoffee pie," that's the only thing he's said on this list. Claire went next.

"Peanut butter." Charlie became persistent, telling her that if he could get her peanut butter, she'll move to the caves with him. I suppose if they moved, I would too. No one at the beach really likes me, or rather, pays attention to me. Charlie and Claire are the only real friends I have on the island… even if they've befriended Malfoy.

[-x-]

My body shook with the tempest of my sobs reverberating inside my lungs. Harry was sitting, slumped, in the headmaster's chair. His eyes were open, green irises expressing no emotion. His hair was sticky with blood, which covered his hands. Those hands were folded neatly in his lap, the elder wand and his phoenix wand halves set into them.

I began to shake; Ron wrapped his hands around mine again.

"He's gone, 'Mione." I nodded. Harry was my past, he isn't my future. It's just another hurdle in the race of life.

[-x-]

I was walking the beach. Just walking. Charlie and Claire were moving to the caves. Sayid was slowly making his way far, far from the camp. Sawyer sat beneath a tree, a paper in hand. A few of the others stacked their things. Malfoy and his son were filling a trunk with things.


	9. Solitary

**Of All Things: Solitary (1.9)**

**[Before we start here, I'd like to just point out a few things: first, thank you to my **_**only**_** reviewer! (though, it would be much appreciated if someone else reviewed…) Next, The chapters are getting a bit short around here. I'll try my best to lengthen them, while keeping a few flashbacks for later chapters. That's all! Oh, and if nobody wanted to do the math, Draco and Hermione are 29, Scorpius is 10, Draco's **_**ex-**_**wife had him when she was 20. Enjoy!]**

** [-x-]**

_Why don't we make a game of it?_ Why, oh why did I listen to Charlie? He was having a hard time convincing Claire to join him at the caves, so he placed a bet. If he can get Claire to the caves first, I have to fill his water bottles for him for a week. If I get Hermione to the caves first, he has to do the same for me.

He won.

"EW! He's in there, drinking our water…"

Caves sweet caves. Nothing's complete without a girl screaming about a dog drinking water.

I heard the jungle rustle behind me.

"Finally wanted to join us?" She ignored me, walking straight past and seeking out Jack. He pointed towards the last open caved area. It was dark, so she removed a wad of clothing from her found suitcase and spread it out on the cave floor. Her cave area was adjacent to mine.

"Granger?"

"What? I'm trying to sleep. Honestly, the sand's softer."

"Then why did you come here?"

"Claire and Charlie were here, and the doctor."

"Oh; Charlie was going on about… never mind. Goodnight, Granger."

The war's over. My whole life, spent in the shadow of the mad I thought could save us, the man who could rule the world. He's dead. Harry Potter and his followers to his and my parents lives.

They held a memorial service, I kept my distance. They don't need the only surviving death eater to attend.

Hurley made a game, some entertainment.

"What's this," I asked Scott-or-Steve as I trekked up the hill.

"Golf!" He looked extremely excited. My excitement is dependent on what the heck golf is. I nodded, trying to blend in, and watched Hurley take a shot. He placed a rock on the ground pulled a metal rod from a bag, swung it at the ground, and sent the rock flying towards a shirt tied to a stick. This didn't look fun.

Third year was the bane of my existence, ever since I was punched in the face by that…mud- girl. It was only third year, I was over it by fourth, but I still remember every moment of my continuing thirteen year old life. One of the strongest memories is of a Quidditch match. A Quidditch match where I became famous for intense showboating. Ever since then, people, the Slytherins, at least, shout requests for my famous moves, the best of which is the snitch roll. But back to the match. We were pitted against the Ravenclaws, and the game was going on forever. I couldn't find the snitch to save my life. We're flying around, Cho Chang and I, searching every inch of the stands. This was the final match of the first round in the elimination series for the house cup, so, naturally, everyone was there. Slytherin was winning, 410 to 390. Flint was yelling at me to find the snitch so that the game would be over.

And I did. It was fluttering, zipping in zig-zag lines above the Gryffindor stands. I headed for it at top speed. Chang didn't notice, so I had this win all to my self.

And then _she_ was in the stands. My mind made a split second decision, and I pulled into a roll and snagged the snitch with the tip of my fingers. We won the house cup that year, and of course, _she _attended every game.

**[and to point even more stuff out; as a sort of survey, are you liking how the story's set up? if there's anything I should change, just review]**


	10. Raised by Another

**Of All Things: Raised by Another (1:10)**

Response to Anonymous reviews:

CM

Thank you! I'm actually responding to a challenge in the Lost/HP crossover fandom:)

Alli

I will have all the mystery and suspense (there isn't a lot right now, though.) and The worlds are- but that's spoilers.

As always, I suggest you get an account so that I can respond faster, and better your fanfic reading experience.

)(LOST)(

Frantic screaming woke everyone in the caves. It was Claire.

"Charlie, what's going on," I asked.

"STOP! Go away!"

"Claire, hey, shh, it's okay. Claire was sleepwalking. Claire, shh!" He softly pinned her arms to her side, then raised her hands. Both were stained red with blood.

)(LOST)(

"Hermione, dear, can you come down here? We need some help…" Molly's voice flowed up the stairs of 12 Grimmauld place. I closed my book and wandered down to the main floor.

"What is it?" Molly, Arthur, Charlie, and Lupin were crowded around a small cauldron.

"Snape isn't here right now… and none of us are any good at potions… We need you to brew us one." I nodded, sitting directly behind the black pot.

"Sure. What potion is it?" Lupin fished a scrap of parchment from his jacket pocket.

"Well, that's the problem… We don't know."

"Snape gave us the instructions," Arthur said, "Then told us where to drop it off." I took the scrap of paper, and unfolded it. My eyes widened in horror. I recognized the ingredients arrangement. It wasn't just any potion.

)(LOST)(

Charlie managed to brew the four of us up some tea. We sat in the woods, sipping quietly and talking of dreams.

"I had this dream. I was driving a bus, and my teeth start falling out. My mum's in the back, eating biscuits, and everything smells of bacon… It's weird. I never woke up screaming, though."

"I'm fine Charlie." I took a sip of the weak tea. Charlie and Claire broke off into their own conversation.

"You ever dream, Granger?" I shook my head at Malfoy's question.

"Nearly never."

"Figured you would, seeing as that oversized mudblo- poor brain of yours never stops running."

"Can't say it, can you, because of the world we're in?" I smirked. This was too funny: Malfoy stuck in the muggle world.

"Shut it." He drained what was left of his tea.

"What about you? Does the great Slytherin Prince dream?"

"Not that you need to know of."

"It's cool Claire, it's cool." With that, Charlie left the clearing.

)(LOST)(

"You recognize it?" Charlie Weasley tapped the edge of the paper with his knuckle.

"Yeah," I shook off the dark feeling I had, pushing it to the recesses of my mind. "Where's your potions kit?"

)(LOST)(

More screams. Claire, as usual. What could've been it this time?

)(LOST)(

I tipped two drops of Draught of Living Death into my cauldron. Three clockwise stirs, three counter-clockwise, three clockwise again. I put the cover on the pot and set an hourglass for five minutes.

The most powerful poison in the world would be ready in five minutes.

)(LOST)(

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" I looked up from the book I was reading. To Kill a Mockingbird. One of Scorpius Malfoy's. Sawyer wouldn't let me into his stash of reading material.

"Last name?"

"You're Hurley, right?"

"Yeah? What's your last name?" He scribbled something into his book.

"Granger. G-r-a-n-g-e-r. Hermione, H-e-r-m-i-o-n-e." He scratched something out and wrote above it.

"Right on. Place of residence?"

"Edinburgh. That's in England."

"Good, good. And reason for being in Sydney?"

"Visiting my parents," I said, mentally willing the large man to leave me and my book alone.

"Cool. Thanks Hermione."

)(LOST)(

"Where's the drop off point, Arthur?" I held the bottle of clear liquid. One mere cubic centimeter of this poison could kill everyone in the room. And I had nearly a hundred times that.

"Under a tree down by Spinner's end. I can drop it-"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to deliver this one. Make sure my creation gets into the right hands." I slipped the container into a green satin bag.

"Hermione, did you ever happen to figure out what potion this is?" He surveyed me above his horn-rimmed glasses.

"No." I tucked Death's flask into my pocket and dissapparated.

)(LOST)(

I closed my book and wandered over to the Malfoy cave.

"Miss Granger." Scorpius addressed me.

"Here's your book. Thank you." The young Malfoy seemed to be much more proper, and nicer than his older counterpart.

"You're welcome," his quill paused above the paper as he turned to look at me. "Are you looking for my dad?" I shook my head.

"No."

"Should I tell him you stopped by?" I shook my head again.

"No need," I said, and turned to leave.

"Do you want to read the Tales of Beetle the Bard? Mum gave me a copy when I was little." He held the blue-bound book out towards me. I accepted.

"Thanks," I smiled. Whoever raised him as a child was definitely a good caretaker.

**A/N: And there's episode 1:10: Raised by another. We had some Claire/Charlie/Hermione/Draco fun in this chapter:) Next up "All the best cowboys have daddy issues"**

**EDIT: Dear me, I just realized when I flip from flashback to the present, I used charlie, and didn't add in a last name! Well, there are now, that way charlie pace isn't magically appearing in the middle of headquarters!  
**


	11. All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues

**Of All Things: All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues (1.10)**

"Where's Charlie?... Where's Charlie!"

"He went after Claire," Lock replied to Jack solemnly. I stood, shrugging an over shirt on over my t-shirt.

"What's going on?" A black man, Michael, if I remember, turned from the edge of the woods to face me.

"Hurley did a census, remember? Well, that Canadian dude, Ethan, he wasn't on the manifest from the plane, man."

"Yeah, but what's that have to do with Charlie?" My eyes wandered to my friend's cave. He shared it with Claire. Claire's bag was missing.

"Charlie went after Claire. Ethan was out in the woods with 'em."

"Oh," I said. I felt my face fall. It was easy to connect with them. Both sounded European, or maybe Australian. "I'm following that lot." I gestured to Locke, Jack, and Boone.

"Where're you going?" Scorpius asked.

"I'll be back."

-x-x-x-

"Draco… Astoria…" My father sat stiffly across from my wife and me.

"What a… surprise…" My mother smiled falsely. "How long- When did you find out?"

"Just today, Lady Malfoy."

"It's Narcissa, dear." Another fake smile, a fake laugh.

"Draco, what will the child's blood status be?"

"Lucius!" My mother snapped. "What he meant to ask was will the child be an appropriate heir?" I ran my hand over Astoria's shoulder comfortingly.

"No."

-x-x-x-

"I dressed Sayid's leg!" Locke and Jack were arguing.

"Hand me that shirt." Locke pointed to my backpack. He had stuffed a red shirt in the drink holder portion of my pack. He tore off a strip and told us to keep moving. At the next turn, he tore off another strip, tied it to a tree, and told us to break. We all sat for a moment, until I noticed something in the grass; a white bandage with the letter L on it. It was one of Charlie's.

A ways down the path, we found another bandage, this one with an 'A'. At that fork, we split into two teams. I followed Locke and Boone. I don't seem to get on well with Jack.

"Red shirt… You ever watch Star Trek?" Locke and I shook our heads. "What do you do in the real world Locke?"

"I'm a regional collections agent for a box company. They make boxes."

"Yeah right," Boone muttered under his breath. "What about you, Malfoy?"

"I uh, I'm unemployed." That was the truth, unless they wanted to know what I really do.

-x-x-x-

"No? I thought the Greengrasses were of Noble Blood?"

"No, Daphne here's mother, was a muggle. But her father was of the purest blood you can find."

"A word, Draco?" Father pulled me into the hall. "Draco! Your child will not be tolerated in this household. Nor will I allow your marriage with a half-breed!" His face turned red, up until his pale roots.

"No," I said quietly. "We will not be living under this roof. I will remain with Astoria. I love her."

"Muggle." My father spit at my shoes, then walked back into the sitting room. Astoria shuffled out behind him, tears burning down her fair-skinned face.

-x-x-x-

"It's going to start raining in one minute."

Sure enough, a minute later, a downpour of rain drenched Boone, Locke and I. We clung close to the leaves for shelter.

-x-x-x-

My shaking hand held the letter from my father. He had the decency to not send it as a howler, thank Merlin.

"What's it say, Draco?"

I gulped. "Draco Malfoy, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy rightfully claim custody of the child of Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy, due to irrefutable evidence that the latter is not a competent parental figure to the child. If, within six weeks of the child's birth, the parents do not separate, the child becomes custody of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Thank you, Cyrellus Black, Attorney at Magik Law

-x-x-x-

"Are we **LOST**?"

"No, Boone, we aren't lost."

"Locke, I feel lost."

"Draco, we aren't lost."

"John, I'm going to follow the strips back." Locke tossed a flashlight weakly towards Boone. It fell to the ground with a clang. Only dirt and plastic don't clang together. We all dropped to our knees in the rain to check it out.

"What is that," Boone said.

"That's what we're going to find out."

**A/N: And another one! Feedback people! I know how many times a chapter is read, and I average maybe one to two reviews per every thirty views!**

**Lets make that thirty to thirty, okay?**

**Thanks:)**

**TheLampPostStation**


	12. Whatever the Case May Be

**Of All Things: Whatever the case may be (1:12)**

**A/N: Just for my reviewer AlinaLotus (sorry if spellings off:/), There's a cutesy little Sawyer/Kate scene at the beginning… I was going to write it in, but it didn't fit right:/ This chapter, and following ones, might have some flip-flopping POV. I'll try to let you know when there's some coming up. Without further ado, season one episode twelve!**

I helped some of the beach dwellers pull backpacks and suitcases up near the treeline. The tides shifted suddenly. Charlie sat, staring into sea. I joined him.  
"Hey." He kept staring. "Charlie, it's me, Hermione." No response. "It's not your fault."

)(LOST)(

"You filthy little mudblood." I swung my arm, feeling the satisfying texture of my knuckles on his face. He deserved it, even after I saw that hopeless look of fear cross his features.

)(LOST)(

"You got it." Locke scared Boone and I senseless as we rounded the corner.

"Let's get to work."

)(LOST)(

"That felt good."  
"Not good, brilliant." I watched him drag his cronies away from the outcropping.

)(LOST)(

"Charlie, you're going to have to talk to me sooner or later. I know you miss Claire, we all do, but come on, stand up, that's it," I helped him to his feet. "It's not your fault. You did all you could do. Now, come on, go help Rose with that box."

"I… Claire's…" he muttered, stepping like he was in a trance blindly towards Rose.

)(LOST)(

"Ms. Granger, I understand you were provoked, but you can't assault another student without consequences!"  
"Professor Mc-"  
"Please keep quiet, Mr. Malfoy. As I was saying, Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy was injured earlier in the year, and you further injured him-"  
"I didn't injure him. It was a simple… adjustment."  
"Ms. Granger! Do I need to call Mr. Filch in here to decide your fate?"  
"No, Professor."  
"Then it's settled. Ms. Granger is to carry Mr. Malfoy's rucksack containing his necessary school things between classes for him for three days."

)(LOST)(

**I really apologize for the lack of substantial stuff. This episode was severely Kate/sayid/Shannon/sawyer centric. Not a lot of our favorite Losties were in here, but that's okay. They're like Hurley. He wasn't mentioned in this ep either:(  
Poor Hurley.**

We could hear more of him if I get more reviews to write!

**Just a thought.**


	13. Hearts and Minds

**Of All Things (1.13 Hearts and Minds)**

**Here we go!**

)(LOST)(

"Boone," Locke hollered, "I found some tracks down by the stream." I slung my back over my shoulder and followed Locke and Boon deep into the jungle. We reached the spot where the metal door with the window peeked out of the ground, and brushed away extra vines.

"What's today's conspiracy theory on this thing?" Boone asked.  
"Some cement jail for the island's prisoners," I offered.

"Now, Locke, we've been coming out here for a week, and no progress…" Boone's comment launched Locke into a rant on Michelangelo.

"You go on ahead… We'll meet you back at the camp," at Locke's words, I hesitated. What were they going to do behind my back? "Go on." I swallowed thickly, and left.

)(LOST)(

"Blaise," I called into the fire. My head wasn't in it, but my voice definitely could reach the other side. "My father's having another party for his colleagues. He says your father will be in attendance. I asked him if you could possibly come. He said yes." I waited for a reply to swirl from emerald flames.

"I'll be there."

)(LOST)(

I cast a makeshift net into the water. We moved back to the beach, deeming it safe. It was within a hike for fresh water. There was fish.  
I pulled the shirt out of the water, shreds of it hanging from large poles. Stupid low-quality fabric. We don't have this stuff back at the manor. I stuck the poles in the wet sand and walked up and down the beach, picking up small crabs and clams or something like that.

"Breakfast," I said, somewhat cheerily. I dumped the shirtful of seafood onto a makeshift table at Charlie's tent. I expected a "Thanks, mate" in return but was confronted with silence. Granger looked up from the shell she was eagerly sh-…she…shu…. taking off the shell part.  
"He won't talk to you, Malfoy. Can't imagine why," she said sarcastically.  
"I wouldn't talk either if my girlfriend's off stolen."  
"She wasn't my girlfriend." He spoke. He lowered his jacket hood, picked up his knife, and set to work on a crab. He changed the subject immediately. "Where have you been off to this whole time? You're always out gone with Locke and Boone. One'a you's gonna turn up missing sooner or later. Hope it's not you."  
"Speak of the devil," Granger said, nodding towards the beach. The bald semi-psychotic survivalist walked down it, grinning, pack slung over his shoulder.

"Locke," I called, "where's Boone?" He shrugged, looked at the jungle, and continued down the sandy coast.

)(LOST)(

"Now, now, Draco. Are you going to sit in that corner all night?" Father tapped his cane against the arm of the chair I was sitting in.

"Blaise didn't show."  
"Don't worry about Blaise. There are many other guests here to entertain you. Ah! Sir!" He caught the arm of a young witch, maybe my age. I tried to brush her off.

"Draco, it's Pansy, I was in your year at Hogwartssss?" She drew out the's', attempting a sexy voice.

"I remember. I am also engaged, so…leave." I stood, and sulked off to my room. Several wizards swooped in, attempting to sell me something, in order for my father to invest in it. I turned down all except for a man selling vacation homes in the Pacific Ocean, and another with time turners. Might as well have some good things in life.

)(LOST)(

"Where's Boone!" I called out furiously. Granger grabbed my wrist.  
"Keep a low profile, Malfoy. We don't need this attention." I turned to see if Charlie had heard. He hadn't.

"Granger, I need to know where Boone is. I need to ask him something."  
"Have you guys, like, seen Boone anywhere?" Shannon stood at the end of our table. "I know you go out with him hunting boar every day, Draco."  
"I've been asking myself the same thing…" I trailed off. Locke was heading this way.

**A/N: There's a fun chapter!**

This episode was Boone centric, and seeing as Draco has kind of befriended Boone, it's only fitting that he'd be a little worried what the box man did.  
R& R folks! It's what keeps me rollin'. I might get quite a few done this week, so sit tight and wait for some epicness!

Any suggestions? Theories? Observations? Favorite lines so far? 


	14. Special

**Of All Things (1.14 Special)**

I couldn't make up my mind. The beach seemed safer, ocean at our backs, nothing to attack us. But we had to lug water from the caves. Food from the jungle. At the caves all the amenities were at our fingertips. I packed then unpacked my backpack again. I couldn't make up my mind. I sat down in the sand.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes?" I looked up at Scorpius. He truly looked just like his father, except with deep brown eyes.

"My dad, that other man, and Mr. Locke went into the jungle with Walt. Can I go see what they're doing?" I nodded.

"Michael?" I shouted down the beach. The man looked around, nearly falling into the water. "I know where Walt is. Take Scorpius with you. He knows where he is." Michael signaled for Scorpius to follow him.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

Ron said something. I could hardly understand it, but it sounded as if he finally understood how I felt about house-elves. I did the only rational, sane, thing I could do. I kissed him. I threw my arms around his neck. He picked me up, twirling me around with happiness. Harry cleared his throat, but really, it's now or never.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

Sayid laid out his maps. Shannon hummed _La Mer_, one of my favorite songs as a child, whispering certain lyrics in French. We shuffled around the papers, until a triangle lined up.

"I'm getting me and my boy off here." Walt said. Or something like that. I wasn't paying attention. The coordinates… on those papers… They meant something. They had to. The lyrics, the equations, the drawings. The Frenchwoman was up to something.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

I leaned into his chest, tears streaming down my face. We had left the Hogwarts grounds the next morning.

"He didn't… Dumbledore wouldn't have… How could he have…. He didn't, did he…Did we cause...?" I muttered, sobbing. Salt clung to my eyelashes, taking clumps of mascara off and pulling it down my face. A gloved hand reached up to wipe the streaks away. It must have been mine. Ron held me tight, unmoving from where we landed after apparition.

"Hey, you did not have a part in that, Hermione. You fought harder than any of us out there. And… and… and I love you for that." I sobbed harder still. I couldn't speak. It was all too much to take in. Harry's gone. That's it. Harry's gone. I have to accept losses that are given to us.

"You weren't to cowardly yourself." I smiled. I would get through this.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

"Sun, eotteohge jeong-won eseo mwolhaneungeoya," I asked Sun, leaning down and touching the leaves of a plant.

"Geugeos-eun jal hago issda . dangsin-i naleul dowa jul laeyo." _ It is doing good. Will you help me?_ I told her of course I'd help her, and pulled a handful of mango seeds from my pockets. She grinned wide and began planting.

We hadn't been there more than ten minutes before someone broke through the leaves.

"Granger, have you seen Scorpius?" Malfoy said quickly, his face was red and he was breathing heavily. I shook my head.

"No," said Sun, who didn't look up from her work. I was about to tell Malfoy to ask Michael where Walt was, but something stopped me.

"You understood that," I said in plain English. She raised her head, a guilty look on her face.

"Please don't let Jin know."

"Wait," Malfoy said, walking closer, "you could speak English this whole time?" She nodded.

"Do not tell."

"Don't worry, we won't," I shot a warning glance at the wizard. "Go find Michael. Scorpius likes to play with Walt." He ran back the way he came, towards the caves.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

I stuffed everything back into my bag. Caves it was. It was getting too much to lug my own water each morning. I caught up to Charlie. He was carrying two large bags down the path to the caves. I offered to take one from him, in addition to my own.

"Thanks. You really didn't have to offer, though. I could have managed," He dumped them on a boulder and stopped to rest.

"Are you okay, Charlie? I know the-"

"Claire's been off more than a week. It's like, like bits of me are crumbling."

"We'll just have to see then." I picked my bag from the pile and headed off to one of the abandoned caves.

I feel really bad for Charlie. If Claire's absence is tearing me up this much, it's only a wonder how much it's killing Charlie. I honestly think he likes her. He's just about the nicest man out here, and it's terrible to think at how far he's come.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

Ron offered me two roses. Two years to date, the war ended. Two years to date, Harry died. Two years to date, I fell in love with Ronald Weasley. Ten minutes to date, I ended that.

"Ron, I know how you've- I know how you cope- I know you're a man- I-" He silenced me with a finger to my lips.

"Think, love. That's one thing you've always been amazing at." I couldn't help but smile at that. In the way he said 'Love' like it's my name, the way he says I'm amazing. But then I remembered why I invited him over. We sat on my couch, not touching, full mugs of tea cooling on the coffee table.

"Ron, I know about Romilda." His blue eyes faced his trainers.

"How long?" He swallowed thickly.

"Two months." He nodded, realizing what had happened.

"You knew for two months and didn't ask me about it when you found out? Why Hermione, why didn't you tell me?" He stood angrily.

"Because you didn't tell me. I want you out of this flat, Ronal Weasley. I'm changing the locks. I don't want to hear from you again."

(L)(O)(S)(T)

"Did you find Scorpius, Ferret?" I said, attempting to recreate Charlie's weak tea.

"Yeah. Trapped in a vine thing being chased by a bear," he replied bitterly, and joined me by the fire. Sayid and Jack immediately started talking with him, until Charlie bounded up.

"You've got to see this, Jack, Sayid."

"What is that?" Malfoy asked.

"It's Claire's… diary… Yeah, I know, I'm bloody scum, but she mentions a dream. 'I had that dream again, the one with the black rock, I just can't seem to escape it.' Sayid, you mentioned a Black Rock, didn't you?" He nodded, but Jack stepped in.

"We're not going out into the jungle in the middle of the night."

**I had a load of fun writing this chapter, despite HATING Michael and Walt.**

**Seriously. They are annoying. I hate their raft and everything. I like Vincent though. I guess it was for the love of Ron-bashing. Sorry for my Ron fans out there. I'm a Slytherin, so it's only natural^^**

**Review folks! I hate knowing there's people who read without sending a nice review my way. I wanna know how I'm doing! Please? Fish biscuits all around to those who do!**

**This chapter is Dedicated to all my reviewers (well, reviewer. Wishful thinking). A.L.!**

**The song mentioned in this chapter is **_**La Mer**_**, which is truly a great lovely song. Give it a listen!**


	15. Homecoming

**Of All Things (1.15 Homecoming)**

I had both Locke's and mine bag slung around my back. Locke hauled Claire through the jungle at the fastest that old man could carry her. We made it to the caves where he dumped her onto an elevation. Jack mopped her face, speaking softly. She jumped, screamed, and began to sob and deny knowing any of us. Charlie got an arm around her; Jack got some water in her. They had calmed her down. Jack and I sat near her, as well as Charlie. She told us her open ended story, about the plane crash, yet she doesn't remember any of us. I felt my eyes drop to my feet. I honestly, truly had missed Claire. She was open, nice, endearing. It actually hurt to see her upset. I helped her walk over to her cave. I let Charlie take over from there. It was dark and I needed sleep.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

I shuffled down the sidewalk of Diagon Alley, through the Three Broomsticks, and out onto London's muggle streets. Ignorant, stupid people crowded on all sides of me. I ducked into a muggle pub to escape the Christmas time rushing.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

I was paging through a discarded muggle magazine. It seemed to be mainly for women, as it talked about dresses and actors, but it did have an interesting page about a singer I knew was a witch. The way she dresses, it's for certain she can't have spent much time around muggles to learn what they wear.

"Draco," Sayid's accent prodded my mind. Would you be willing to be sentry for a few hours? We're one short."

(L)(O)(S)(T)

"Haven't seen you 'bout here before." A pretty redhead sat next to me on a barstool. She looked so much like that Weasley girl that it was actually offputting.  
"Not a regular."

"Shame. You should come in more often." I searched for a response.  
"I don't drink," I lied.

"Shame," she shed her smile and walked over to the other side of the bar, and began talking to another man. "Haven't seen you 'bout here before…" The pub was nearly empty, save for me, the Weasley-doppleganger, the barman, and the other man. I watched the muggles filter around the streets, carrying shopping bags, boxes, pulling carts. A woman pushed open the door and made a beeline to the stool next to me.

"Don' mind if I sit here? Phil, I need something hot… Tea, if you got it." The man huffed, pulling an _ekleteric_ kettle from under the counter. She turned to me.

"He hates it when I don't get his liquor."

"I'll take one too," I spoke over the counter. I offered my hand to the woman. "Draco Malfoy."

"Alice Wetson. Pleasure," she shook my hand.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

I rushed towards the screams. A body washed up on shore. His neck, is arms, his fingers. It was either Steve or Scott. I couldn't tell. It wasn't as if I knew the difference. After he was buried, Hurley delivered a eulogy, but there wasn't much to say. Everyone was on red alert, now that someone had died. I filled up a few bottles of water, dropped two in my cave and carried the remaining two down to the beach. The water had warmed up significantly by the time I got there, and that didn't please Sawyer any.

"If you keep wanting your reading material, you gotta keep the water cool enough, Ferret."

"Where'd you pick that up?"

"Hermione. Like it?"

"Brilliant," I said sarcastically, and turned back to the jungle. About halfway there, I saw Jack and Locke in the brush. "Oi, what are you two up to?"

"Draco, go back."

"No, Locke. I want in." He raise a metal… thing to his shoulder. "What are those." Jack gave me a 'you must be joking' look. "Seriously."

"You ever fire a gun, Draco?" I shook my head. What in the name of Merlin is a gun? "Then never mind. Go back, Draco."

"Teach me." I said. I wasn't backing down. Those looked like weapons, and I'm practically Wandless around here.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

We struck up our command. Sayid reminded all of us that the _guns_ were last resorts. I stood at my post, and waited. I could see Claire through the leaves from my point. I was seriously hoping I wouldn't be the first to see Ethan. Rain poured thickly through the leaves.

Claire screamed and began to run. I didn't see Ethan, but I pulled my gun from my waistband and ran after them. I had just caught up when Jack and Ethan were in a full fledged battle. Kate, Locke, and Sayid showed up, but someone shouted to keep them alive. Sawyer ran in. As soon as Ethan was down, we all aimed. But someone shot him before any of us could entertain the idea. Five rounds sunk into Ethan's chest. We all turned towards the source. Charlie was aiming a gun at Ethan's dead body.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

"You can drop the accent around me," I said quietly. "You're not fooling anyone." She looked alarmed.

"Oh… what gave me away?"

"Your name. You said it in an American accent. As well as the word 'pleasure'. That's alright. I can't imagine why you'd need to fake." Our tea arrived, she stirred sugar into hers.

"Ah. Anyway. What part of the States are you from?" I attempted talk with what little I knew of that side of the globe.

"California. I'm really far from home here." She brushed back brown hair. She was thin, attractive, and didn't wear a ring. All good signs. Except she was a muggle.  
"I'm sorry. I have somewhere to go. Here," I tossed down a muggle banknote on the bar, hoping it would cover both her tea and mine.

(L)(O)(S)(T)

I laid down in the cave, thinking about how I'd possibly get any sleep tonight.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Scorp?"

"Are those spots of blood on your shirt?" When Ethan was shot, we were all sprayed with a fine mist of blood that clung to the rain and attacked our clothing.

"Yes. Now go to sleep."

**This was an interesting chapter. I'll admit that I really didn't want to write while I watched, but that's how I do this. **

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